


She who-shall-not-be-named

by foxwilliammulder



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Episode Related, F/M, casino night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 20:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7121488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwilliammulder/pseuds/foxwilliammulder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. An exploration from Jim's POV of what might have happened had he not confessed his feelings to Pam on Casino Night. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She who-shall-not-be-named

“You heading out, Newbie?” Karen asked Jim, as he slipped his messenger bag onto his shoulders.

He looked down at her and smiled his crooked smile. “Yep.” It was the end of Jim’s second week in Stamford, and everyone still called him, “Newbie,” or some variation of the word. Except for Dwi--er, Andy Bernard--who sat in front of him, who called him, “Big Tuna.”

Everyone was pretty nice, including his new boss, Josh. And Josh really seemed to like him, which worked out great for Jim. Karen seemed cool, too. They hung out at Happy Hour last week, had a good time. She was quite different from Her, very boisterous and abrupt in personality. He wasn’t really interested in her at this point, because he just got out of a long-term emotional relationship, from which he was still reeling inside. In spite of that, he had been putting a lot of energy into getting to know Karen, Josh, the new job, and anything and everything new and different he had encountered since the move. 

He desperately needed to move on. 

He’d almost let everything slip, how he felt about Her, on Casino Night. At the last second, he’d paused and looked down at Her happy face, enjoying the simplicity of her life, and he just couldn’t do it. A big part of his brain told him that She would not have responded well to his declaration, anyway.

Instead, he’d just told Her that he was transferring. 

_He felt a rush of shame come over him at his cowardice when he avoided his declaration, as he fixated on the hem of her blue dress swaying in the light breeze._

_She thought he was joking at first but, when he made it clear that he was nothing if not serious, she got really quiet. She met his gaze and held it, much longer than she usually did._

_“Why?” Her eyebrows were furrowed. Jim didn’t know if it was just out of confusion, concern, or both._

_Jim rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, but could not bring himself to break her hypnotic gaze. “Um, well, you know. It’s a good opportunity for me…a promotion.”_

_There was a pause before she responded. “A promotion,” she stated, her voice colored in disbelief. He nodded. She opened her mouth again, as if to speak, but did not say a word._

_“What?”_

_“Nothing.” She was dismissive, nonchalant, but she finally looked away, focusing on something behind him._

_“Do you have something to say?”_

_“Do you?”_

_“I just did. I said that I was leaving. You, on the other hand, were really about to say something, and then you just did this.” He exaggeratedly opened his mouth really wide, tensed his shoulders, and then quickly closed it and relaxed. Humor would get them through this, if anything could._

_Pam laughed a little. It was weak, but sincere. After a moment, she looked back up at him. “I just…” she trailed off, looking away again. Then, she looked back, and her eyes were sad. Her voice, when she spoke, was a little shaky, vulnerable. “I’m really going to miss you, you know?”_

_Jim softened at that. He could definitely relate. “Yeah. I’m going to miss you, too. More than you know, actually.” At that, she quickly closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. When he snaked his own arms around her, feeling the softness of her dress beneath his fingertips, she tightened her grip even more, and he heard her sniffle._

_“Don’t go,” she said into his shirt, her voice muffled. Jim could feel her tears soaking into his sweater._

_Jim moved his hands from her back to her sides, and pulled her slightly away from him. He didn’t want to break the hug completely, but he had something to say, and he needed to see her face. He was completely serious, and silently willing her to just know what he really meant by his words. “I have to.”_

_Pam sighed, and looked so devastated and devastating that he just wanted to kiss her, get that look off her face, and keep it off forever._

_It was thoughts like that which made Jim realize just how pathetic he really was. So, he disentangled himself from her and stepped back. ___

_“Okay,” She said. The answer was delayed and sounded out of place, as if neither of them had been expecting her to respond, but she felt obligated to, anyway._

_After that, he invited her to go up to the office and hang out with him while he packed up his things. She agreed, but they didn’t talk too much while he cleaned out his desk. Their silence filled the air with all that was still unsaid between them, so much so that there was little room left over for words. It only took him about ten minutes, especially with Pam’s help acquiring a box and folders for all of the loose papers in his desk drawers. Then they took the elevator down to the office, shared a brief but heartfelt goodbye hug in the parking lot, and Jim got in his car and left. As he put his signal on to turn out onto the street, he finally sighed, both relieved and deeply saddened to be away from her._

That moment had been the start of a new era, the first one he would live through after meeting Her. He had been thinking, for months, about the way he could best continue to live a normal, human, life after She was married. Only one viable solution came to mind:

Forget. Forget. Forget. 

So, that’s what he was trying to do. He was actively trying to purge himself of all thoughts of Her, and that included the three letters he’d once, in a moment of weakness, carved into a tree while on a camping trip with his family. 

*She* didn’t want to forget *him*, however. She called him a few times before he left, wanting to meet up for lunch, or coffee, or anything, really. He might have said yes had She not also always mentioned some wedding errand or other She had to take care of. Or maybe She never mentioned anything of the sort. No matter—he could read between the lines.

When he’d moved, Her attempts to keep their friendship alive did not cease. She continued writing to him little things about her day, sometimes about how she missed him. 

His replies had been short, stilted. He tried not to be too rude, but they were definitely dismissive, not-so-subtly telling Her that he wasn’t interested in playing their game anymore. He thought She was starting to get the hint, as she had not contacted him in a record three days, a fact which gave him some comfort.

Of course he missed Her, as well. This move was not about dwelling on thoughts of Her, though--it was about escaping them.

The whole forget mantra, and all that. 

As Jim walked toward the door of their office space, he glanced at the calendar above the receptionist’s desk and saw the date: June 7th. He winced involuntarily and Karen noticed.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Forget. Forget. Forget.

“Just…something, some dust, just got into my eye.”

She laughed at him. “You’re gonna have to hide that pansy thing you’ve got going on there, Halpert. We aren’t as soft and sentimental as you Scrantonites.”

Ah, so she does know my name, Jim thought, his playful side jumping out as naturally as when the doctor bumps that spot below a person’s knee. He responded by swiping at his chin with his thumb and forefinger, as if in deep thought. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll work on that.” His words sounded sincere, but Karen was smart enough to know that he was messing with her. By this point, they had reached the elevator and were on their way to the ground floor.

As the elevator opened and they started to walk out, Karen said, with a smirk, “You do that.” After a short pause, “So, Australia, huh?” He silently, though profusely, thanked her for bringing him out of his Her-induced fog.

“Oh, yeah,” he responded. “I know it’s a weird time, with me having just started and everything, but I’ve had this trip planned for a while now.”

“Excited?”

“Um…Definitely. You know, looking forward to hanging with some kangaroos, throwing some shrimp on the…barby.” He paused, to laugh at himself, because he could hear the lameness in the clichés he was speaking. In truth, he didn’t really want to go to Australia, alone, the next day. But he was going, because the trip was nonrefundable, and because a part of him was hoping that the sand and the sun and the accents could bleach away the tortuous memories of his recent past.

“You don’t know anything about Australia, do you, Newbie?”

“Nope.”

They laughed lightly as they made their way to the front door of the building. Jim automatically walked ahead to get the door and hold it open for Karen, and then held it open for the building custodian who was entering for his evening shift. Karen smiled at Jim, genuinely this time, and murmured a quiet, thoughtful, “thanks.”

He shrugged and nodded his head once, indicating that he thought it didn’t deserve a thank you. After Jim had followed Karen out the door, she stopped and turned around, facing him. “Well, on behalf of those who don’t have an amazing vacation to look forward to, I am going to go for a drink.”

He chuckled. “Nice. Hope it helps you drown your sorrows.”

“Well, it’s not looking very promising. You wanna come along?”

These days, Jim had become much more of a ‘yes’ man when it came to social engagements. While at home, alone in his apartment, it was incredibly difficult to avoid thoughts of Her, let alone forget Her entirely, as was the ultimate goal. The distraction he got at work, and hanging out with his coworkers afterward, was what was keeping him from drowning in his desperation, his devastation. It did not take him long to decide on this particular invitation.

“Definitely.” 

They agreed, very quickly, on Caroline’s, a local bar, and that Jim would drive.

They walked toward Jim’s car, parked at the back of the small lot, Jim’s hands deep in the pockets of his pants, his eyes fixed on his feet walking through the sunny space. As he stepped onto an ant crawling through the lot, he heard Karen utter a, “Hi, are you…do you need help finding something, or something?”

When he looked up to see to whom Karen was speaking, he stopped in his tracks. 

She was leaning against Jim’s car, wearing light-wash, well-worn jeans, a pale pink, lace-trimmed tank top, and her keds. Any makeup she might have been wearing was indiscernible. For one of only a handful of times since he’d met her, her hair was completely down, cascading around her face and shoulders. 

As his mind emerged from his daze, it became clear to him why Karen had asked Her if She needed help. Her hands were laced together in front of Her, Her shoulders tense, and She was biting Her lip in apprehension. She looked like the living embodiment of a question mark. 

Throughout this moment of silence, during which Jim went into, and returned from, a state of shock, She looked from Jim, to Karen, who had also stopped moving in order to observe this odd exchange, and back again. Finally, She spoke.

“Um, I don’t really know…I’m sorry. I didn’t. I just didn’t know where to--but…Um, I’m gonna go. I’m sorry.” With that rambling speech, She turned on her heels and started walking to the other side of the lot, where Roy’s truck was parked. 

She’d gotten only a few steps when Jim realized that the important thing to take out of Her words was that she’d driven all the way to Stamford to see him just to instantly leave. 

He hesitated for only a moment.

“Pam!” he called, and saying her name, finally, felt cathartic. She was all he’d ever wanted or needed, in every way. His best friend. In the end, best friend status wasn’t enough for him, but he’d always feel it. His connection with her was threaded so deeply within him that he could feel her confusion and pain as if they were his own, and assumed he always would. Lately the agony of not being with her had been unbearable. However, saying her name flooded him with reminders that, while the lows she made him feel were the lowest he’d ever felt, knowing her, loving her, had given his life meaning, and purpose, and had made it so blindingly bright. He was so in love that it ached in an equally exquisite and excruciating way, and uttering that one syllable brought it all back. Forgetting her would be impossible. “Wait!”

He jogged the three feet to where she’d gotten and rested his hand on Pam’s shoulder. Slowly, she turned around and peered up at him. They were about a foot apart now and he could see her face more clearly. She looked hurt, and so, so tired. Her face was so far from normal that it caused him to ask, over all the other questions that had previously been fighting for top spot, “What’s wrong?” His voice was low, gentle, raw. 

His hand slipped slowly from her shoulder, and he stared at her for a long moment, and she looked everywhere around him, but never directly at his face. She was fidgeting her laced fingers. Jim soon realized that she had no intention of answering. Rage at her cowardice bubbled up within him, and his eruption was unexpected  
and volatile.

“Fine, Pam. Stay silent. God forbid you actually say what you’re thinking, for once.”

Pam reeled back in shock. That had come out of nowhere. He was instantly contrite. When Jim was just about to open his mouth and apologize, Pam decided to react in kind. “Why did you really leave?” Her voice is sharp, angry, accusatory. The sadness and fatigue that had dominated her expression a moment before was replaced by fury.

“I already told you, Pam.”

“Was it because of me?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Why would it have been because of you?”

“I mean, I hear Kevin going on and on about your fantasy football plans, and Phyllis, Phyllis, talking about the detailed update on your new apartment and coworkers that you sent her. But me, your so-called best friend, you completely blow off.”

“I’ve never ignored you.”

“I’d rather you ignore me than get nothing more than a ‘that sounds pretty crazy, Beesly,’ to my two-page message, because then I could at least hold onto the hope that you just hadn’t seen it. Now I know that you want nothing to do with me.”

“I’ve just been busy, Pam. Starting a new job takes up a lot of time.”

“Oh, don’t pretend that you give a shit about your job. I don’t believe it for a second.” She took a deep breath, and her words went from being angry to emphatic and a bit sad. “I *know* you. And all of my Jim senses are telling me that you left because you wanted to get away from me.” He almost forgot his detached stance in order to make fun of her for saying “Jim senses.” Jim ultimately believed that humor had unparalleled healing powers, but he and Pam were so broken that not even it could save them now.

“Pam, you’re reading too much into it,” he said, trying to salvage the situation. He didn’t want her to hate him, but he also didn’t want to take the bait she was dangling in front of his face. If she was willing to drive all that way, then she was willing to admit how she really felt about him.

“Am I?” Her question was leading, dripping with subtext. 

Jim looked down at her, his eyes full of emotion, love, for Pam. Everything in his demeanor clearly screamed, *no, of course you’re right. Every major decision I’ve made the past four years has been because of you.* And he wanted to tell her this. The thing was, they had perfected their don’t-say-what-you’re-really-thinking dynamic over the years, and he didn’t know how to deviate from it. Plus, he wanted it to be her job to steer the conversation to an honest place.

“What are you doing here, Pam?”

She looked up at him and then darted her eyes away a moment later, then brought them back. “Well, I was in the neighborhood,” she joked weakly.

He just raised his eyebrows expectantly, awaiting the true answer.

She sighed, slumped her shoulders. “Last night, my mom showed up, to help with the last-minute wedding preparations…”

She paused, and set her gaze on him, looking for confirmation of his comprehension. The knife that was her mention of “wedding preparations” lodged its way into Jim’s gut, the pain reverberating throughout his body; he did his best to ignore it, though, and simply responded to her pause with a distracted nod of his head.

“We stayed up really late talking about everything, like where to seat everybody, and betting how many of my uncles would come dressed in those awful tuxedo T-shirts.” Jim’s mouth crooked up involuntarily. “Anyway, at one point, we got on the subject of maid of honor. My mom talked about how her wedding was such a great time for her and her best friend. She went on about why she loves weddings so much, because it brings everyone you care about together. And it was kind of a really cheesy speech thing, but, I mean, it reminded me of you. I care about you, more than so many other people, and you won’t be there.”

Jim’s rage returned with a vengeance, and his response was cold. “You drove all the way out here just to insist that I come to your wedding?” He clenched his fists and heaved a heavy sigh in an attempt to ebb some of his anger. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, Jim saw Karen back away, toward her car.

Pam looked vexed by his assumption. “No!” 

A pause. “Then, why, Pam?” He was so tired of feeling this desperate.

“I guess I just realized,” Pam began, searching within herself for the right words, just this once, to let him know how she really felt, “that I don’t want to be anywhere where you aren’t. Even my own wedding.” She let out a muted, but decidedly bitter, laugh. “Especially my own wedding.”

When she met his eyes again, he could see terror behind him, could feel her vulnerability rolling off her in waves. Some may have found Pam’s statement to be cryptic, at best, but Jim saw it for what it really was: Her declaration of love. It meant that he wasn’t crazy for hoping all these years. It wasn’t all in his head. She just couldn’t quite get the words out, and that was a feeling he understood only too well.

“Pam,” he stated, like an answer to a question, to *the* question, like a prayer to a god he hadn’t believed in since age 12. He took a tentative step forward, no concrete plan in mind for how to proceed, and she mirrored his movements, as well as his sentiments. 

He reached a hand out to her face, and stroked his knuckles from her temple down the line of her jaw, slowly, reverently. He had a flash of himself, weathered by age and decades of love and sun and companionship, performing the same gesture.

He was going to remember everything, starting now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
